


Cuddling

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Danger, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-27 02:57:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21111545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Sort of a create-your-own-context fic, in that you have to use your imagination about how and why Barba and Carisi ended up in a car trunk together ;)





	Cuddling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoundWithinTheSilence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoundWithinTheSilence/gifts).

“You know, when I heard your voice I thought for a second maybe you were here to rescue me.”

“I am.”

“Yeah? You’re doing a great job so far, Detective.”

“We have a plan. Could you move over?”

“Move _over_? Where do you suggest I go?”

“I have longer legs than you.”

“I was here first. It’s not my fault you’re built like a baby giraffe.”

Carisi fell silent and stopped moving. 

After a few moments Barba asked, “So? What’s the plan, then?”

Carisi didn’t answer. 

“Really? You’re not going to answer me?”

“You called me a baby giraffe,” Carisi muttered.

“You called me short,” Barba shot back. “Come on, Carisi, I’ve been in this trunk for a fucking hour, I’d really like to believe you have a plan to get us out.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

Barba sighed. He shifted closer to the back of the trunk, wincing. “Here, straighten your legs back a little.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

“Don’t be childish.”

“Least I’m taller than a child.”

Barba snorted, not without amusement.

“Did they hurt you?” Carisi asked after long moments of silence. Barba didn’t answer, and Carisi shifted, trying to look over his shoulder. In the pale glow from the taillights, he couldn’t make out Barba’s expression—only the shine of his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” Barba said quietly.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“I might need you to run, Barba, I need to know if—”

“You tell me what to do and I’ll do it,” Barba cut in.

Carisi laughed, turning his face forward again. “That could be fun,” he said.

The silence stretched between them as they listened to the sound of the highway passing beneath them. “Thank you for coming after me,” Barba finally said, the words barely audible. 

“Hey, what’re friends for?”

“I…feel safer with you here.”

“Careful, Barba,” Carisi said. “I couldn’t even hear the sarcasm.” When Barba didn’t answer, the detective sighed and said, “Sorry. Look, you are safe, alright? You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“At the risk of being further mocked for my sincerity, it turns out that the prospect of dying alone in a trunk and being dumped in the Hudson is not as appealing as one might think. So, believe me or not, the sound of your voice was…more of a relief than you can know.”

Carisi paused. “It was a helluva relief to see you alive,” he admitted. “Sorry I couldn’t get you out of here right away, but—”

“I trust you. You say there’s a plan, there’s a plan.”

“Yeah. There is,” Carisi said, shifting his legs. His knee bumped the front of the trunk. “Getting myself thrown in here was part of it. Wouldna been my first choice, maybe, but—”

“Come on, move your feet back a little. You won’t be any good to either of us if your legs cramp up.”

Carisi shifted again, and felt Barba’s knees behind his. “I’m sorry I called you short. Even though I didn’t really.”

Barba laughed. “I’m not apologizing.”

“Of course not,” Carisi answered, rolling his eyes.

“You overreacted. For the record, baby giraffes are cute.”

“Not the kind of _cute_ that’s flattering to a grown man,” Carisi said.

“Hmm. Fishing for compliments?”

“No.”

“I’d be happy to stroke your ego when we get out of here.”

“I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” Carisi answered, and he heard Barba’s soft chuckle behind him. “Besides, I know you always secretly liked me. I’m a likable guy.”

“Well. Marginally better after you lost the mustache, at least.”

“I don’t know why everyone’s always dumping on my mustache,” Carisi exclaimed. “I liked it.”

“There was nothing wrong with the mustache. It just didn’t do your face any favors.”

“Just so you know, _several_ people told me I looked better with it.”

“They were lying. Probably trying to sleep with you.”

Carisi huffed. “Why’d they wanna sleep with me if I looked so bad, then?”

“I said it didn’t do you any favors, I didn’t say it made you unattractive. Jesus, were you always this sensitive or has it gotten worse since I left?”

“I’m a sensitive guy, Barba,” Carisi said, and Barba laughed quietly behind him. “But a lot of things got worse after you left.”

Barba fell silent. There was a rustle as he shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable in the small space. His knees bumped the back of Carisi’s legs and then moved away. Finally, after listening to nothing but the hum of the road, the rumble of the engine, and their mingled breaths for what felt like minutes, Barba spoke: “Congratulations on your new title, Counsellor.”

“Oh, so you knew about that?” Carisi answered with just the hint of edge in his voice. “I wasn’t sure, you know, since I never heard from you. And a little while ago you called me ‘Detective,’ so.”

“You don’t seem to be acting as an ADA at the moment,” Barba said, which they both knew was a hedge.

“Once a cop, always a cop, right?”

“You were always more than a cop, Carisi. And if you’re expecting an apology because I didn’t send you a Hallmark—”

“No, I get it,” Carisi cut in, silencing him. “I’ve got your job, and we both know you deserve it more’n I do. I didn’t expect you to be over the moon, Barba, but I thought maybe I’d be a step up from Stone in your eyes.”

After another long pause, Barba asked, “You don’t like Stone?”

Carisi’s sigh made Barba smile in spite of himself. “He tried to put you in prison, you think we all just forget something like that?”

“It did sort of seem like—”

“We had to do our jobs, Barba. You get that, right? We had to get along but that doesn’t mean we got over what he did to you.”

“He was doing his job, too.”

“Now you’re defending him? Which is it?”

“Which what is what?”

“You hate him or you don’t?”

“I don’t hate him. I’m just surprised—I thought you two were close.”

“Close? What the hell does that mean?”

“Never mind, drop it.”

“No,” Carisi said, trying to look over his shoulder again. “Are you pissed off at me for working with him? Is that why I haven’t heard from you in so long?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to hear from me.”

“Cut the pity party and answer the question.”

Barba blinked in surprise. He couldn’t quite make out Carisi’s features but his tone was unmistakable. “_Pity party_?”

“You didn’t know I wanted to _hear from you_? Were you always so selfish or did it get worse when you left?”

“Selfish? You think you’d be where you are now if I hadn’t let you follow me—”

“In a fucking _trunk_? That’s where I am now for following—”

The car lurched forward as the driver slammed on the brakes, and Carisi rolled backward into Barba, his words morphing into a strangled sound of surprise. Barba grunted, grabbing Carisi automatically as the car drew to an abrupt stop. Carisi flailed for a few moments, accidentally elbowing Barba as he tried to get his balance.

“Ow—fuck, stop moving!” Barba said. He had a palm flattened against Carisi’s shoulder blade and the other gripped the detective’s hip.

“Sorry,” Carisi muttered. The car moved forward again and he tried to wiggle himself out of Barba’s personal space as much as possible. “You okay?”

“Fine. Never better.”

They rode in silence for a minute as the car accelerated. Barba braced himself against the other man until their speed had evened out. Finally, Carisi said quietly, “I thought we were friends, you know? Liv heard from you, I get that, but Rollins, too?”

“She gave birth, Carisi. Have you given birth lately?”

“No. Just got the biggest, scariest promotion of my life…” Carisi trailed off. Barba’s hand was still on his hip.

“I didn’t mean what I said, alright?” Barba murmured behind him. “Of course you don’t owe me anything for your successes, I just…”

“I thought maybe you wanted to be more than friends,” Carisi said. He spilled the words in a rush and then paused before adding, “So tell me I’m the idiot.”

Barba sighed softly behind him. “I saw you in Forlini’s,” he said.

“What? When?”

“A few months after I left. I saw you go in, so I…You were alone, so I followed you in, I thought maybe, I don’t know, we could talk.”

Carisi waited, but Barba didn’t continue. Carisi turned his head. “So? Why didn’t you say something?”

“You _weren’t_ alone,” Barba said. “You were meeting Stone.”

“Okay? And? We’re back to you being pissed at me for working with him?”

“Jesus, Carisi, you _are_ an idiot.”

“I’ve never been as quick as you, Barba, help me catch up.”

“I didn’t know if it was work-related. It looked…friendly.”

“Friendly? I’m a friendly guy, Barba. Sensitive and friendly, that’s me.”

“Yeah, you’re a goddamned golden retriever,” Barba muttered.

“You thought I was fucking Peter _S__tone_?”

“I thought it was more likely he was fucking you.”

“Haha, funny. Hilarious. Well I wouldn’t have let him fuck me even if he _was_ into guys, which he’s not. Least as far as I know. First because of what he did to you and second ’cause he’s not my type.”

“Not your type? Tall, good-looking, can probably open a bottle with his abs—”

“Well, Barba, us golden retrievers like to cuddle and how’re you s’posed to cuddle up to a goddamn two-by-four, huh?”

Barba uttered a surprised laugh. “There’s more important things than _cuddling_.”

“Maybe for you,” Carisi shot back.

Barba opened his mouth, but before he could answer the driver slammed on the brakes again. Barba tightened his grip on Carisi’s hip but he was too slow, and the detective smashed into him again. “Jesus, who taught this guy how to fucking _drive_?”

“Same asshole who taught him how to kidnap people, prolly.”

Barba laughed in spite of himself. The car was stopped, idling, but they hadn’t heard any doors open. Must be a red light. “Okay, maybe not _more important_,” he allowed after a few beats. “But there’s something to be said for—”

“I’m sorry, did you _want_ me to sleep with him?”

“No,” Barba breathed before he could think to stop the sound.

“Because I still have his number. I can at least ask if he’s interested.”

“He’d be a fool not to be.”

Carisi lapsed into stunned silence, bracing himself as the car started moving again. He didn’t shift away from Barba. “Well…he’s not,” he finally managed. “Interested, I mean. I don’t think. Not that it matters. I don’t wanna fuck anyone I don’t wanna cuddle afterward.”

Barba didn’t answer.

“You really gonna make me say it?” Carisi asked.

“Whatever you think you want to say, you can say later. To my face.”

“To your face? You want me to kneel?”

“I guarantee if you were on your knees, you wouldn’t be looking at—” Barba broke off, grimacing.

Carisi let him stew in his discomfort for a bit before answering. “You trying to flirt with me?”

“That was closer to a proposition than flirtation, but if you don’t know the difference—”

“I do. I just wasn’t sure you did. Thought you might be rusty. You know, at your age.”

“Ah, good. So I’m old, short, selfish—”

“I bet you’re nice to cuddle with, though.”

Barba closed his mouth, opened it, closed it again; he had no response. His tongue had forgotten how to form words and his body had suddenly become far too aware of the way it was curved around Carisi’s. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and swallowed.

“You still back there?”

“Where would I go?” Barba managed. He cleared his throat, frowning at the sound of Carisi’s soft chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re right. I should wait until you have a fair chance to run away if you want.”

“Is this the setup for another joke about me having short legs?”

Carisi laughed. “No. But I literally have you cornered. Like you said, I should say it to your face.”

Barba hesitated, considering. “Say what, exactly?” he asked after a few moments.

“Tell you what, Barba. When we get out of here you owe me a steak dinner. How ‘bout we talk about it then?”

“Is it going to involve you yelling at me?”

Carisi smiled in the darkness. “Maybe a little.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Carisi laughed. His shoulder pressed into Barba’s as he shifted to try to look back at him.

“Okay,” Barba answered. “But just to be clear, are you still interested in that _more than friends_ thing? After you’ve gotten the yelling out of your system, of course.”

“Hm. Come to think of it, I’m not much on yelling. We could prolly find some other way to work out our…frustrations.”

“Frustrations.”

“You know. You’re mad at me, I’m mad at you…”

“Why am I angry with you?”

“For fucking Stone.”

“But you didn’t.”

Carisi pressed himself even closer. “When you thought I was, were you jealous?” he asked quietly.

“‘You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.’”

“Yeah? I’ve read _The Handmaid’s Tale_, too.”

“Hmm,” Barba answered, managing to sound both surprised and impressed with nothing more than a single hum.

“What’s it s’posed to mean?”

“I never thought I should have you, Carisi. Even before I fucked up my life and the lives of everyone close to me.”

“Huh. So you weren’t jealous?”

Barba snorted. “Yes. Okay. But I knew I shouldn’t be. Wanting you and deserving you are two very different things.”

“So the Atwood quote was—” Before he could finish the thought, the driver hit the brakes again. Barba had his hand on Carisi’s hip, and his fingers tightened reflexively even though there was nowhere for the detective to go; he was already flush against Barba’s body.

Barba made a soft sound—not quite a grunt—as Carisi shifted a little to ease the pressure on the other man. “Don’t be offended,” he murmured, the quiet words sounding almost like a plea.

Carisi didn’t have to ask what he meant; he could feel Barba’s involuntary reaction to Carisi’s body being snuggled into his. Now wasn’t the time to discuss it. The car was stopped, and at least two doors had opened. “_Flattered_, Raf,” Carisi assured him quickly. “Listen, when this trunk opens, no matter what happens you stay behind me. Got it?”

“Do you have backup?”

“Tell me you’ve got it.”

“Okay yes but what’s the—” He broke off abruptly at the sound of the trunk latch popping. The sudden flood of light a few seconds later blinded him, and he squinted against the sting as tears blurred his vision. He felt Carisi shift away from him, saw the detective’s shape against the brightness as he sat up and threw his arms wide to shield Barba as much as possible.

“You don’t wanna—” Carisi started, and Barba was struck by how much that stupid Staten Island accent had grown on him. He’d missed it more than he cared to admit. He’d been an idiot to stay away so long. A stupid, selfish asshole.

Carisi only got those three words out before the first gunshot, and then the air left his body in a sound that Barba’s mind would replay in his dreams for weeks. There were shouts and more gunshots erupting even as Carisi was folding back into the trunk, collapsing against Barba, but they were nothing but a roar of indecipherable noise.

Barba forced his eyes to focus as he grabbed at Carisi, calling his name, barely aware of the words leaving his lips: “Carisi, Sonny, shit, Sonny, talk to me—” Barba was trapped behind Carisi in the trunk and he had no idea what was happening outside the car or even where they were. The lighting was artificial, not sunlight, but he only registered that in his subconscious. No one was firing into the trunk for the moment, and all Barba cared about was Carisi.

The detective lifted an arm, trying to bat away Barba’s frantically-roaming hands. “M’okay,” he managed on a gasp. “Stop—I’m—” He coughed, trying to push himself up onto his elbow. “Vest,” he said, giving up on knocking Barba’s hands away.

It took several seconds for the words to break through the cloud of panic in Barba’s brain, and then the relief hit him like a train and his hands started to tremble. “Jesus,” he breathed, and his voice was shaking, too. “Are you sure? Are you—”

“Sure,” Carisi said. He stopped trying to push himself up and sagged back against Barba, letting out an unsteady breath. “It’s okay.” He didn’t _sound_ okay, though. He was breathing heavily, each exhale ending in a small sound close to a whimper. He might not be bleeding to death but Barba knew he was still in pain.

Barba finally realized that the gunshots had stopped, and then he recognized familiar voices. He had his arms wrapped around Carisi’s chest, holding fistfuls of his shirt. He blinked up as Benson appeared above them. She looked into the trunk and he saw the relief soften her face and lower her shoulders.

Barba sank back, closing his eyes, holding onto Carisi’s shirt. “As many steaks as you want,” he mumbled, and Carisi answered with a shaky laugh, dropping his head back against Barba’s shoulder.

* * *

“I thought I was supposed to be buying you dinner.”

Carisi chuckled as he slid the skillet to the back burner. “I didn’t say that,” he answered. He’d taken over Barba’s kitchen without hesitation, finding what he needed with minimal searching and setting about making dinner. He’d even brought the steaks. “Are you staring at my ass, Barba?”

Barba blinked, jerking his gaze up to the back of Carisi’s head. “Not if you don’t want me to be,” he said. He grabbed his wine glass and took a quick drink.

Carisi laughed and turned to face him, leaning against the counter beside the stove. He crossed his ankles and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He appeared completely at ease, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement, his pink lips curved into a smile.

Barba tried not to think of how close the man had come to taking a bullet between those beautiful eyes. “You should be taking it easy,” he heard himself say, a reminder that the close call wasn’t far from his mind.

“Just a bruise,” Carisi said with half a shrug. “Coulda been a lot worse.”

“Yeah,” Barba agreed, and the two men stared at each other for a few moments. “I, um.” Barba fidgeted, running his fingers along the edge of the table beside him. He cleared his throat. “Can I do something to help? With dinner?”

“It’ll be ready in a few more minutes.”

“Can you make it take a little longer?”

Carisi reached over and turned the burner to the lowest setting. He looked at Barba, waiting.

Barba ran his tongue over his lower lip, nervously. “Did you want to get the yelling out of the way?”

“It hurt that you cut me out of your life,” Carisi said. “I didn’t fight you when you said you didn’t want me at your trial but I at least thought you’d talk to me before you…” He shook his head and sighed. “But what’s done is done, Rafael. You did what you thought you had to do. And I did what I had to do. My job. I’m sorry it hurt you that I was working with Stone.”

Barba shook his head and stepped forward, moving cautiously toward the other man. “I know my opinion doesn’t carry much weight, Sonny, but I’m proud of you—So proud of what you’ve accomplished, you have no idea. That probably sounds condescending, but…” He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s true.”

Carisi smiled. “Couldna done it without you,” he murmured, but a bit of pink had crept into his cheeks and the depth of his dimples told Barba just how pleased Carisi was to hear the words. 

Barba stopped in front of him. “You were right, I was selfish.”

“Nah,” Carisi said, still smiling.

“Call me an idiot.”

“Smartest guy I ever knew,” Carisi answered.

“Call me an asshole.”

“_Wellll_…” Carisi said, his smile stretching into a grin. Barba laughed, but Carisi reached out and poked him in the shoulder. “You’re not an asshole, Raf. No matter how hard you try.”

“I’m trying to apologize, here.”

Carisi sighed. “I don’t need you to apologize. All I need to know is if you regret shutting me out.”

“More than anything,” Barba admitted in a low voice.

“If there were things you wish you said.”

“Yes.”

“If you want a second chance.” Barba opened his mouth, but before he could answer Carisi added, “And none of that ‘I don’t deserve it’ crap, alright? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, then. Your turn.”

Barba hesitated. “For?”

“Call me a traitor or ask if I—”

Barba stepped forward and kissed him. He felt a momentary flare of panic as his lips met Carisi’s—but then Carisi was kissing him in return, and all of Barba’s anxieties vanished. He raised his hand to the curve of the detective’s neck, and Carisi’s hands settled comfortably at Barba’s waist to pull him closer. There was no hesitation in Carisi’s kiss, no hint of doubt in the touch of his hands.

Barba turned his face away. Carisi’s lips followed his for a moment before the detective could stop himself, but then he just stood there—hands on Barba’s hips, eyes bright and watchful, small frown crinkling his forehead—waiting for Barba to say what was on his mind.

“You got shot today,” Barba said, forcing his gaze up to Carisi’s.

“In the vest.”

“You were lucky,” Barba countered. His hand was resting in the hollow of Carisi’s shoulder, but he flattened his other palm over Carisi’s chest, lightly, barely touching. “They had to know you were wearing it, he could’ve shot—”

“Raf,” Carisi cut in, his tone and expression gentle, “I’m fine—we’re both fine. We’re right here in your kitchen. Listen, you don’t need to—”

“I thought I’d already lost you,” Barba said, letting the words spill out of himself, “and then when I heard you, when I saw you, and I knew you were there to save me, and then for a few minutes when we were locked in there together I almost forgot where we were and it was just about you and me and I thought maybe there was a chance I could fix things, and then…” Barba paused, drawing a breath. He knew he was barely making sense and he also knew it didn’t matter. “And then for a few seconds I thought you were fucking _dead_, and I realized that all the stupid things I was too afraid to say didn’t matter, I wasted so much time—”

“I’m fine,” Carisi repeated, his hands tightening at Barba’s waist. He dipped his chin a bit, holding Barba’s stare, and said, “Far’s I’m concerned we could stay right here all night. You know how long I wanted to touch you like this?”

Barba slid his thumb along the side of Carisi’s throat and felt a small shiver pass through the detective’s body. “I can think of an endless number of ways I’d like to touch you,” Barba murmured. He reached over and turned off the burner with a flick of his wrist. 

“Long as you promise not to judge my culinary skills on this meal when I have to reheat it later.”

“We can have steaks for breakfast,” Barba said, watching Carisi’s face for his reaction.

“I can arrange that,” Carisi answered. Barba glanced back toward the other man’s backpack near the door and Carisi laughed quietly. “Always be prepared, you taught me that.”

“That was The Boy Scouts,” Barba countered, and Carisi laughed again. “Do we need to discuss our expectations, here?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Carisi murmured, tipping his head. He saw Barba’s gaze slip down to the exposed curve of his neck. “My expectation is that you’re gonna fuck me,” he continued, smiling at the flare of Barba’s nostrils. “And I’m good with anything else that comes along.”

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” Barba said, eying Carisi’s neck. It wasn’t a question, but Carisi answered anyway.

“Yeah. Trust you’ll do the same.”

“Mhmm,” Barba said, leaning in to kiss under Carisi’s jaw once before mouthing along the side of his neck. Carisi’s lips parted for an airy sound, and he pulled Barba’s hips flush against him so they could feel each other’s reactions. Barba licked and sucked at his neck, but lightly, like he was afraid to leave marks.

Carisi was about to tell him that he didn’t care—that Barba was free to mark him up however he wanted—but the words died in his throat when Barba’s mouth found its way inside the collar of Carisi’s shirt and the pressure changed. Barba nipped at the soft skin below his collarbone and almost immediately sucked a dark hickey into the detective’s flesh.

Carisi felt himself hardening at the sensation of being branded, _claimed_, and he shifted restlessly between Barba and the counter. Barba was running his tongue over the mark he’d made, his nose buried in the collar of Carisi’s shirt.

Carisi slid his hands down over Barba’s hips and then back up, slipping under his sweater and shirt to find bare skin, and Barba hummed his approval against Carisi’s throat as he started unbuttoning the detective’s shirt. In a matter of moments he pushed the shirt open and back onto Carisi’s shoulders, and Barba lifted his head to look at the dark bruise blossoming across the other man’s chest. He grimaced at the sight, but Carisi’s ran his hands up and down Barba’s sides in a gesture of reassurance; Barba’s skin was hot against his palms, and Carisi wanted to feel _all_ of him.

“No cracked ribs?” Barba asked, his eyes cataloguing the injury.

“Nope. Just a bruise.”

“Just a bruise,” Barba murmured under his breath, with a tiny shake of his head. “He shot you almost point-blank. I can’t believe how—” He stopped himself and met Carisi’s eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“I promise I’m okay.”

Barba looked down again, and Carisi caught his breath in surprise when Barba ducked his head and touched his lips, feather-light, to the center of the bruise. His gentleness—the sheer amount of _care_ put into the gesture—brought the sting of tears to Carisi’s eyes, and when Barba lifted his head to look at him Carisi leaned in and claimed his lips in an eager, desperate kiss.

He tugged Barba’s shirts up his sides, and Barba lifted his arms so Carisi could slip them off and toss them onto the counter. He fumbled for the button of Barba’s jeans and popped it open. “God, you’re perfect.”

Barba made a scoffing sound, but he couldn’t hide the flush in his cheeks.

Carisi slipped his hands into the back of Barba’s pants, cupping his ass through his underwear. When Carisi groaned in appreciation of the way Barba felt against his palms, Barba couldn’t help but laugh. The sound turned into a groan when Carisi ducked his head to nuzzle his neck.

“Every time I smell someone wearing your cologne I wanna punch ‘em for not being you,” Carisi admitted.

Barba choked on a laugh. “So violent,” he teased. Then: “People wear my cologne?”

“Maybe it’s my imagination ‘cause I wanted to smell you.”

“Wishful thinking?” Barba suggested.

“Yeah.” Carisi pulled back with a sigh of regret. “Can you give me a few minutes?”

Barba blinked. “Wha—Okay.”

“Meet me in the bedroom?”

“Okay,” Barba repeated, taking a step back, but when Carisi started to move away Barba grabbed his arm, pulling him back for a quick kiss. “I missed you, too,” he whispered, searching Carisi’s eyes. “And I’m so—”

Carisi stopped the apology with another kiss, letting his lips linger for a few seconds. “Take off your jeans and get comfortable, I’ll be right in,” he promised.

“Yes, Counsellor,” Barba intoned, and Carisi grinned at him before giving his ass another brief squeeze.

* * *

Carisi walked out of the bathroom in nothing but his boxers, and when he stepped into the bedroom he was pleased to find Barba in a similar state of undress. His appreciation quickly turned to concern, though. Barba had his back to Carisi and was standing with his shorts slung low. There was an ugly bruise visible above the elastic waistband, between his hip and spine.

Barba turned as Carisi walked into the bedroom, but his smile faltered at the sight of Carisi’s frown. “Thought you said they didn’t hurt you?” the detective said as he crossed toward Barba.

“What? No, they—Oh,” Barba breathed, half-exclamation and half-realization as Carisi turned him around and sank into a crouch behind him. “Just something in the trunk.” He shivered as Carisi pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the bruise.

“Why didn’t you tell me something was digging into your back? I would’ve stopped crowding you.”

“That’s why I didn’t say—_God_, do that again.”

Carisi immediately obliged, once more circling his tongue over the bruise, easing Barba’s shorts a few inches lower to give himself better access. “Is this the only one?”

“Yes,” Barba breathed.

“How stiff are you?”

“Turn me around and find out,” Barba answered, sounding amused.

“You know what I mean.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Barba said, “More old age jokes.” Then, before Carisi could respond: “Nothing a few ibuprofen didn’t take care of. Ask me again in the morning.”

“I will,” Carisi promised, murmuring the words with his lips against Barba’s spine and sliding his shorts down over the curve of his ass. “D’you know how much time I used to spend staring at this? Wondering how intimately your tailor must know you?”

Barba laughed. “You were jealous of my tailor?”

“Yeah. But where’s he now?”

“I have no idea.”

“God, I’ve never wanted to mark up anyone’s ass this bad,” Carisi muttered, more to himself than Barba.

Barba turned. “You can do whatever you want to my ass. Next time.”

Carisi’s eyes lit up. “What do you mean, _whatever I want_?” he asked, and his excitement made Barba laugh. “Do you have any idea how _perfect_,” Carisi told him, his voice and expression full of happy earnestness and his cheeks and chest flushed pink. He held his hands up in the air to mimic cupping Barba’s cheeks.

“Okay,” Barba said. His voice was a little gruff, but Carisi seemed unperturbed. Barba had no doubt the other man could see the blush creeping up _his_ neck and into his cheeks, and he couldn’t help but laugh again at his own ridiculousness. Then Carisi’s gaze dropped to his crotch, and Barba’s laugh died in his throat.

His shorts were pulled down below his ass in the back, but he was still covered in the front; the elastic was held in place by his erection, and Barba got the impression Carisi had suddenly forgotten all about his backside. Watching Carisi ogling him, it occurred to Barba that he’d never felt _beautiful_ in his life, not until he was standing in the glow of Carisi’s admiring gaze. The very idea embarrassed him and made the color in his cheeks burn even darker, but it also filled him with pleasant warmth.

He watched Carisi duck his head forward, but he was still startled into an involuntary sound when the detective closed his mouth around his erection, wetting the cotton of his shorts with his tongue. Barba took half a step forward and reached down, grabbing the other man’s shoulder to steady himself.

Carisi rolled his eyes upward to look at Barba’s face, and whatever he saw clearly pleased him. He hummed happily and tipped his head to get a better angle, sucking Barba through his shorts.

“Jesus,” Barba breathed, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “If you keep up like that you’ll be able to make even more old age jokes in about—Ah, Christ. Two minutes.” He grabbed Carisi’s hair but then simply held on, unsure if he wanted to pull him closer or push him away.

Carisi drew back and looked up to say, “No more _short_ jokes, though.” He winked and Barba groaned, unable to resist rolling his eyes. Carisi smiled up at him, his eyes shining.

Barba let go of Carisi’s hair and ran his hand over the detective’s flushed cheek. “Those eyes are a menace,” he murmured, tracing a thumb along Carisi’s cheekbone. “You ever make someone come just by looking at them before?”

Carisi beamed as though he’d been paid the highest compliment, and Barba knew in that moment that Carisi _owned_ him. Barba would give the man absolutely anything he wanted of Barba—his ass, his hand, his heart. The words piled up in his throat but he couldn’t say them, not now, not like this, not if there could be any doubt in Carisi’s mind that Barba was saying the words because he wanted to get laid, or because Carisi had nearly died protecting him.

“No, but I’ve never been so excited to look at someone before,” Carisi answered.

“Get up,” Barba said, his voice rough with emotion that he couldn’t swallow. Carisi rose gracefully to his feet, unfolding those never-ending legs until he was standing in front of Barba with a small frown creasing his forehead and his head tipped a bit to the side. Barba hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He poured all of his heart, all of the words he couldn’t say, into the kiss and he felt Carisi melting against him in response.

Barba turned Carisi and steered him backward toward the bed, pushing him onto the sheet. Carisi fell back onto his elbows, grinning as Barba shucked his shorts without ceremony and followed him onto the bed for another kiss.

After a few moments Barba shifted, moving his mouth to the curve of Carisi’s neck, and Carisi collapsed flat onto his back and pulled Barba down with him.

“I think I’m in love with your mouth,” Carisi breathed as Barba sucked and licked at his neck.

Barba’s heart jumped into his throat halfway through Carisi’s proclamation, and he lifted his head to chance a look at Carisi’s face. Carisi was staring at him, gauging his reaction. He knew Barba, even after so much time apart, and he didn’t want to do or say anything to make Barba uncomfortable. Carisi was inclined toward honesty and affection, but he was willing to temper both instincts to ensure Barba’s comfort.

Barba leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to Carisi’s lips. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my mouth,” he said, and Carisi smiled beneath him. Barba shifted, once more finding the hollow of Carisi’s throat and teasing the sensitive skin there.

Carisi tipped his head back, fisting his hands into Barba’s hair. “Please never stop that.”

Barba chuckled against his skin. “Scoot up,” he said, levering himself up just enough to allow Carisi to drag himself backward up the bed. “Comfortable?” he asked when Carisi’s head was on the pillow.

Carisi squirmed beneath Barba. “Be a lot more comfortable after you—”

“I know I have no right to ask you to trust me, Sonny, but—”

“Course I do,” Carisi cut in.

Barba didn’t finish his sentence, because the words were unnecessary. He bent his head and kissed Carisi’s chest, running his lips and tongue down his sternum, detouring briefly to tease a nipple. Carisi squirmed again, dropping his hands to the bed so he wasn’t pulling on Barba’s hair.

Carisi watched the top of the other man’s head from beneath heavy eyelids as Barba trailed soft kisses down toward Carisi’s belly button. Carisi wanted to tell Barba that he loved him—that he’d always loved him and still did, no matter how hard he’d tried to convince his heart to let Barba go—but he didn’t want to scare him or make him feel pressured to return the sentiment. Carisi usually made a point of saying the words to people he loved, but he knew that Barba was much more reserved with his feelings. It didn’t mean he didn’t care; Carisi didn’t need to hear the words to know how Barba felt about him.

Barba’s feelings were in the gentleness of his mouth, and the way his right hand was flattened over the bruise on Carisi’s chest—not pressing any weight onto it, just resting lightly, protective. Barba’s hand stayed there even as he slipped further down Carisi’s body, swirling his tongue around Carisi’s navel and following the trail of hair that led into the waistband of his shorts.

Carisi was already painfully hard and leaking inside his boxers, but he felt no self-consciousness. Barba wanted him as badly as he wanted Barba, but both men were holding their eagerness in check. It would be easy to give themselves over to desire, to move hard and fast and take what their bodies craved, but Carisi wanted to savor this moment. The way Barba’s lips lingered against his skin told him Barba felt the same way.

Carisi’s stomach quivered under Barba’s mouth and Barba made a humming sound of appreciation that made Carisi’s erection throb in his shorts. That part of his body didn’t have to wait long for Barba’s attention, though. Barba tucked the fingers of his left hand into the elastic waistband and tugged it down, freeing Carisi from the cotton confines.

Barba took a few moments to admire the view before ducking his head and running his tongue along Carisi’s glistening slit. Carisi’s cock twitched against Barba’s lips, spilling another drop of precome for Barba to claim with the tip of his tongue.

“Mmhm,” Barba murmured in encouragement, as though Carisi had any control over the leakage. Carisi wiggled, fighting his body’s urge to arch against the other man’s face. He fisted his hands in the sheet at his sides, breathing heavily as he watched Barba lick up and down the length of his shaft.

“I’m a little, uh…God, I’m kinda close already,” Carisi warned.

“Hmm, okay,” Barba said, tipping his head and running his tongue up the crease between Carisi’s balls. Carisi twitched and shifted his legs restlessly. He jumped when Barba nipped playfully at one heavy testicle. “Next time,” Barba murmured. He slid Carisi’s shorts further down his thighs, shifting out of the way so Carisi could pull his legs, one at a time, out of the underwear. Barba tossed the shorts onto the floor and started to push Carisi’s leg up before pausing to look at the detective’s face. “Does this hurt?”

“No,” Carisi said, drawing up his knees and looking at Barba. “Leastways not enough that I care,” he added, and Barba’s lips quirked into a smile. Barba was on his knees between Carisi’s legs, and Carisi knew he must be sore from his time in the trunk even _with_ ibuprofen, so he asked, “What about you, Raf? You okay?”

Barba smiled. “Never better,” he said.

Carisi felt a fresh flush of warmth at the words and the affection in Barba’s eyes, but before he could think of anything to say Barba’s face disappeared between his legs. Carisi gasped, his eyes slipping closed as Barba’s tongue pressed lightly at his opening, teasing the tight ring of muscle with a few licks.

Barba pushed Carisi’s legs a little further apart, levering them higher to give himself better access. “Oh God, please,” Carisi breathed, squirming as the pressure of Barba’s tongue grew more insistent. “Rafael.”

The sound of his name seemed to have an effect on Barba, and Carisi could do nothing but squirm and moan as the other man proceeded to give him the best—and most thorough—rimming of his life. Carisi’s cock was leaking all over his stomach, and his fingers were twisted into the sheet, and Barba’s tongue had stolen all rational thought from his mind.

“Please, please,” Carisi moaned. Nobody had ever made him come with nothing more than anal stimulation, but Barba had him teetering on the edge and Carisi wasn’t sure how much longer he could last.

When Barba lifted his head and pushed himself up over Carisi’s body, Carisi thought he was going to feel Barba’s erection nudging at his opening. He knew it wouldn’t take much—probably a single brush over his prostate would have him falling to pieces—but he was determined to be as receptive as possible for as long as Barba needed him to be.

Barba covered Carisi’s body with his own, keeping his weight askew in deference to the detective’s bruised chest, and found his mouth with a kiss—long and slow and deep and full of promise. He pushed gently at Carisi’s knees, and Carisi obediently straightened his legs, lowering them to the bed in spite of his confusion. Barba reached between their bodies and wrapped his fingers around Carisi’s erection, giving him a few gentle strokes.

Carisi writhed under him, desperate for release but determined to wait as long as possible. He whined into Barba’s mouth, unable to choke the sound back. Barba released his lips and pressed his forehead against Carisi’s for a moment. “Sonny,” he whispered.

“Huh.”

Barba lifted his head far enough to meet Carisi’s bright eyes. “Is it alright if…Can we just…” He trailed off, but his fingers tightened around Carisi’s erection.

Barba looked worried, and Carisi suddenly understood what he wanted. Carisi had said he expected Barba to fuck him, and Barba was afraid of disappointing him by saying what _he_ wanted—as if there were any way Carisi could be disappointed by this moment. He lifted a hand and laid his palm against Barba’s cheek and saw the worry ease from Barba’s expression.

Carisi reached his other hand between their bodies to find Barba’s erection. “Plenty of time for other stuff,” Carisi promised softly, and Barba’s lips curved into a smile. His eyes slipped closed as Carisi started stroking him, but his own hand started moving along Carisi’s cock in a matching rhythm. After a moment he opened his eyes and met Carisi’s gaze, lowering his head to brush his lips over Carisi’s in a soft kiss.

“Can I?” Carisi murmured, his fingers nudging against Barba’s between their bodies. Barba withdrew his hand, shivering as Carisi lined up their erections and wrapped his long fingers around both. Barba reached up and slipped his fingers into Carisi’s hair; his other hand was curled against Carisi’s shoulder. He buried his face in the crook of Carisi’s neck, breathing heavily.

Carisi’s free hand tangled into Barba’s hair, holding his head in place as he relished the hot unevenness of Barba’s breath against his skin. Barba shifted, digging a knee into the mattress beside Carisi’s thigh to push himself into Carisi’s hand, and Carisi felt the orgasm rippling through Barba’s muscles. It was all he needed to push him over the edge, and he was coming even as he felt the first spurts of Barba’s semen landing on his stomach.

Carisi worked them both through their orgasms with slow and steady strokes. Their bodies heaved and shuddered together, and when Carisi drew his hand back Barba collapsed against him. Carisi wrapped his arms around the other man, letting out a contented sigh, and he felt Barba’s lips caress his neck in a kiss.

“Am I hurting you?” Barba mumbled.

“No. We can stay like this forever.”

Barba hummed against Carisi’s neck. “Gotta get cleaned up,” he objected half-heartedly.

“In a minute.”

“Mmhm,” Barba agreed, snuggling against Carisi and pressing another kiss to his neck. “Two minutes,” he mumbled after a moment.

* * *

Carisi had an arm and leg thrown over Barba and his cheek resting on Barba’s chest. Both men were wearing shorts and nothing else. “You’re warm,” Carisi murmured sleepily.

“Hmm.”

“Raf?”

“Hmm?”

“I like you, y’know.”

“I picked up on that,” Barba answered with a lazy smile. It was early morning. The sun hadn’t quite found its way into the city yet, but the room was gray with pre-dawn light. Barba stroked Carisi’s hair back from his temple. “You have plans for today?”

“Spend as much time with you as you’ll let me,” Carisi mumbled in response, and he felt the rumble of Barba’s chuckle against his cheek.

“The limit doesn’t exist, Sonny.”

“Yeah?” Carisi asked with a sleepy smile of his own.

“Yeah. Stay forever.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“Don’t worry, Raf,” Carisi said, giving Barba’s chest a quick kiss before resettling against him. “I know you secretly like me.”

“You’re a likable guy,” Barba answered with a smile.

“Yep. And you’re as nice to cuddle as I thought you’d be.”

“Go back to sleep,” Barba murmured with a kiss against Carisi’s hair. “You’ll need the energy later.”

“Oh? Big plans?” Carisi laughed.

“Hm. Have to prove I’m not as old as you think.”

“Can’t wait to wrap my giraffe legs around you.” Carisi lifted his head long enough to kiss Barba’s laughing mouth, and then he dropped his head back to the other man’s chest and snuggled closer under the blankets.

“Sorry I wasted so much time being an idiot,” Barba said.

“We’ll just have to make up for lost time,” Carisi answered, sliding his hand over to thumb Barba’s nipple and grinning at the hitch in Barba’s breath. “Sensitive, huh?”

Barba shifted beneath him. “I’m a sensitive guy, too.”

Carisi laughed and lifted his head. “I know, but I won’t tell anyone,” he said with an exaggerated wink. “I think we’ve rested long enough.” He planted a quick kiss on Barba’s lips. “Wanna negotiate any terms?”

Barba snorted. “No terms. Whatever you want.” He grunted as Carisi pushed himself over onto Barba, straddling his hips.

“Afraid to negotiate with me now that I’m a real lawyer?” Carisi teased, leaning down to kiss playfully at Barba’s nose.

“Afraid?” Barba scoffed, his fingers digging into Carisi’s hips. He paused. “I just want you to be happy.”

“Because you like me?” Carisi said, his tone still light and teasing.

Barba cleared his throat. “Something like that,” he muttered, pulling Carisi’s head down for a kiss.


End file.
